The penthouse had gone quiet apart from the low hum of the air conditioning and the odd clink of ice against glass. Past the floor-to-ceiling windows the city glittered against the night sky.
Ellis sat in his usual lounge chair, black shirt unbuttoned at the throat, wire-framed glasses resting low on his nose. His scotch had been sitting untouched for nearly twenty minutes.
Across from him, Dax sprawled on the black leather couch with one tattooed arm stretched along the backrest.
"Alright, Ellis. You've been staring at that glass for twenty minutes. What the hell is going on?"
Ellis let out a quiet laugh and pushed his glasses up.
"There's something I've wanted to ask for a while. Something involving you. Both of you, actually."
Dax's eyebrows lifted.
"That sounds like the beginning of a murder confession."
Ellis turned his glass a quarter turn against the armrest, then set it down.
"I want to watch you with my wife."
Silence. Dax lowered his drink slowly.
"Come again?"
The colour came up in Ellis's cheeks, and he did not look away from you.
"I want to watch Dax fuck you. Here, or in the bedroom. I don't care which, as long as I get to watch."
Dax stared at him for a long moment before letting out a disbelieving laugh.
"Fuck me. You're actually serious."
"Very."
Dax rubbed his thumb along the rim of his glass.
"And you're telling me this sitting three feet from your wife?"
"It would be rather rude to arrange something without asking first."
That got another laugh out of him.
"Only you could make this sound like you're booking a table."
Ellis smiled, then turned his attention to you, and his face softened while the pink stayed in his cheeks.
"I love you. You know that. I don't want you to feel pushed into anything. But I've been thinking about this for months, and I finally wanted to say it out loud."
He leaves his hand open on the armrest, palm up, and does not fill the quiet.